Henry's adventures through the big hole
by Niai
Summary: Henry Townshend was rather enjoying being trapped in his apartment for five days, until he ran out of entertainment. Will he find some more through the hole in his bathroom wall? Rated M for strong language, and randomness.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not in any shape or form own Silent Hill 4, Konami does. Got it, punk?  
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**Henry's adventures through the big hole**** in his bathroom wall**

**Prologue **

**It was two years ago that Henry Townshend moved into Room 302 of South Ashfield Heights, an apartment building in the medium-sized city of Ashfield. Henry was happy and enjoying his new life...** _Well, not really. The apartment was cramped and smelled terrible, and his neighbors were rather strange, particularly the Superintendent who for some reason kept an umbilical cord in his room. Quite frankly, Henry didn't even want to know. Well, he did quite like his next door neighbor, a Miss Eileen Galvin, who he often spyed on through a hole in the wall in the vain hope she would start strutting around with no clothes on. But alas, I digress._

**Five days ago, something strange happened. He began to have a recurring dream each night. One other thing...**

**He couldn't leave Room 302...**


	2. This place is just falling apart

**Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill 4: The Room, or any of it's characters. Alas, that privilege belongs to good old Konami. Though sometimes I wonder the need for these things. Quite frankly, I think the chances of being sued for not having a disclaimer at the top of each chapter is rather low. Unless the next Silent Hill game sells around five copies and Konami are forced to make ends meet by sueing random Fan Fiction writers. Anyway... hope you enjoy.  
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**Henry's adventures through the big hole**** in his bathroom wall**

**Part 1 - This place is just falling apart  
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Henry suddenly woke up, and found himself sitting on his bed. He had just had a most peculiar dream. He had been at the Miss Universe pagaent, wearing a pink tutu and a tiara. That dream... he been dreaming it every night for a long time now. He had puzzled over what it meant again and again, but it was all a blur. He put it to the back of his mind for now. There was only one thought on his mind.

"Damn, I'm hungry."

He reached over for the small telephone sitting on his bedside table, frantically dialed a number and held the receiver to his ear.

"Hello, is that Toni's Pizza Parlour?"

No reply. Henry put the phone down with a sigh. He'd just have to whip up something with whatever was left in the kitchen. He got up and started walking towards the door, when suddenly the phone began to ring. Henry quickly turned round and picked up the receiver again.

"About bloody time. Yes, I'd like a large pepperoni pizza with--"

"Help... me..."

The voice was that of a woman. She sounded slightly constipated. It most certainly wasn't Toni from the Pizza Parlour. Maybe he'd hired some additional staff. Henry was about to tell her to go to the pharmacy for some digestive medicine when the phone started beeping. She had hung up. As he lowered the phone he noticed that the cord was cut. Typical. This place was just falling apart. He walked into the living room, immediately noticing the present state of the front door.

"Oh, God. I'd forgotten about that."

_Somehow Henry had managed to forget the small fact that he had been locked in his Apartment for the past five days, when a set of heavy chains had miraculously appeared overnight accompanied with a message written in a red substance that read 'Do not go out! Walter.'_

_It was a good thing he had had no joy with the Pizza Parlour, they wouldn't have been able to get it through the door. Unless they slid the pizza through the gap underneath, like those funny orange bits of paper that had started appearing. He had received the first one on the second day of his confinement._

_It read: "got milk?"_

_After rushing to check his refrigerator, Henry confirmed that he did indeed have milk, of the chocolate variety in fact. What he was supposed to do with this fact he had no idea, and concluded it was some bizzare marketing ploy. On the third day, another orange message appeared._

_It read: "All your base are belong to us."_

_Henry didn't know what this meant, but it frightened him._

_ On the fourth day, he found another message lying at the bottom of his door._

_It was an envelope, containing a coupon for a free rental at Blockbuster Video._

Anyway, whoever this 'Walter' was, Henry was really quite thankful for him taking the liberty of locking off his home from the rest of civilization, at least at first. It meant that he didn't have to go to work. Henry was a photogropher for 'The Ashfield Tabloid' a crappy local newspaper, but being the sexy beast that he was he thought he was surely made for bigger things. Like modelling. Or being a porn star.

He had spent the past five days watching soap operas on television, writing poetry, spying on Eileen (she still hadn't noticed, the silly cow), and making and eating pancakes. But now the television had spontaniously combusted, he was all out of inspiration, Eileen was definetely not going to take her clothes off, and he had used up all of the pancake making reagents. He couldn't run from the truth any longer. He would have to somehow get out of the apartment, or die of boredom and/or starvation.

By a stunning coincedence, just as he had thought this thought, there was a very loud sound of collapsing rubble that came from Henry's bathroom. It sounded like the place was falling apart again. Literally. He ran to the room in question to investigate, and found a rather large hole in his bathroom wall. Upon further examination it wasn't just a hole, it led out to a huge tunnel that Henry couldn't see the end of.

'Fucking hell. When Sunderland finds out about this I'm in deep shit,' exclaimed Henry.

Realising that this tunnel might prove to be an exit from this hellhole, Henry began to clamber inside it, feeling rather silly as he did so. He crawled and crawled up the tunnel, which seemed to him to stretch for miles. There was a very bright light at the bottom, and it reminded Henry of that bit in The Ring with the well. After a bit more crawling, everything went white.

If Henry had a little dog called Toto, he would probably say something about not being in Kansas anymore.


	3. Boobies, bladder problems, & bad doggies

**Disclaimer: Le sigh. I do not own Silent Hill 4: The Room, Konami does, so I do apologise for the confusion if you were under the impression that I did. Be warned dog lovers, this part contains images of big mutant dogs being slaughtered. Try not to be too offended, now! Please review!**

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****Henry's adventures through the big hole in his bathroom wall **

**Part 2 - Boobies, bladder problems, and bad doggies  
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Henry opened his eyes and found himself sitting on an escalator, descening. Where the hell was he? It looked like... the subway nearest his apartment. How the hell did that big tunnel lead here? It wasn't physically possible. The place was completely empty, which was eerie considering every time he had been here it had been absolutely mobbed with commuters. But Henry put that thought to one side of his brain, as he reached the bottom of the escalator. Yes, this was definetely the Ashfield subway. He began to walk down the white corridor when he thought he saw someone... or did he?No, he wasn't mistaken. There was a figure standing at the other end of the corridor with their back to him. A woman by the looks of things. Well, it might have been a man in drag. You could never tell nowadays. He/she was wearing a rather short red top, and an even shorter denim skirt. Henry squinted his eyes. Yes, he/she was most certainly a hooker. Not a very good businessman/woman by the looks of thing though. He/she wasn't going to get much attention down here in an empty subway. Henry walked briskly towards the person.

They felt Henry's presence and turned round.

'Who are you? What's your name?'

It was a Hispanic woman, with short brown hair. Henry looked downwards.

('Boobies. Usually those are restricted to females but you never know… Hey, her voice sounds familiar…')

'Henry. And you?'

'Huh? This is my dream and you don't even know my name?'

Henry decided to take a wild stab at it.

'Wendy?'

'It's Cynthia.'

'Ah. Your dream?'

'That's right. This is just a dream. And a really terrible one too. I hope I wake up soon.'

('I know, she's the constipated girl that was on the telephone!')

'So you think this is a dream, huh?'

'Well, if it's not a dream, what is it?'

'Gosh, I don't know. Fiction?'

She seemed to pretend not to hear that.

'Anyway, I want to get out of here, but I can't find the exit. Say…'

She seductively laid a finger on his neck.

'…will you help me find it?'

'Well, I don't know. I have quite a busy sche--'

'I'm kinda scared all alone.'

'No, really. I have a problem with my front door really I should get ba--'

'I'll… do a special favour… for you later.'

Well, this changed the situation somewhat. Henry tried to search his pockets for some cash as subtlety as he could. He couldn't find any, but then realised she probably wouldn't be charging. Cynthia didn't even wait for an answer, knowing that this was an offer that most men wouldn't be able to refuse.

'It's just a dream, so I may as well have some fun,' she giggled.

Henry seriously hoped that this 'fun' involved what he thought it did, and Cynthia didn't have a game of Jenga in mind. H nodded and started walking with her towards the ticket booths. Bujust as they were approaching the toilets, Cynthia collapsed to her knees in discomfort.

'Wait a minute... I... think I'm going to puke.'

And with that she ran into the little girl's room. What a wonderful coindence that just as her bladder problems began to resurface they were near some toilets!

Henry leaned against the wall and patiently waited for his fair maiden to come back out. She was taking an awful long time, he thought. Several seconds later after he had thought that thought, the door for the men's toilet burst open and a pair of rather threatening looking dogs ran out. They had tongues so long that Henry wondered how they managed to walk without tripping over them, never mind run. The doggies looked at him in a way that didn't seem to suggest 'Hello there. Let me lick you in a loving and affectionate manner', but 'I am going to shred you to pieces and then eat your mangled corpse'. Henry was able to take a hint. He desperately searched the surroundings of the subway for a weapon he could use to batter Rover and Rex to death with, and then he remembered the bottle of Haut-Médoc AC Château Cissac 1986 he had earlier swiped from his fridge and put in his back pocket for later. He pulled it out, and then whacked the one on the right (Rover) on the head with it. The bottle shattered instantly, and Rover collapsed on the ground, making a most uncouth screetching noise as he did so. All the wine had escaped, and the puddle of red French liquid lying on the subway floor. Rex noticed this fact, and then started to drink the wine off the floor with his giant tongue. Henry then whacked the stupid mutt with the now broken glass, and he too fell to the ground, also screetching. Clearly, the dogs were still alive. Breathing heavily after all that labourus whacking, Henry started hitting the collapsed dogs again with the bottle. They would not die. Again, and again, he repeated the action but those darn hounds just kept living. Henry was now extremely frustrated.

'Argggggh! Die you bastards!'

He brought the bottle down again, and again, and again on both pooches. No result. Henry collapsed on the ground on all fours, exhausted, starting to believe that these dogs were invincible somehow. And then it occured to him, the one weakness that these dogs had. Why hadn't he realised it sooner, it was so _obvious!_

'I'll... _stamp on them_!'

Henry stood over the two cowering hellhounds like an executioner, ready to swing his axe down.' He raised his heel above their heads, and then brought his loafer down upon them in one swift movement. They died instantly. Henry felt rather liberated. He had never liked dogs, (never mind mutant ones) ever since one had nearly bitten his arm off when he was six, but he had never imagined stamping two of them to death.

Suddenly remembering Cynthia, he thought he had better go and make sure she was alright. He knocked on the ladies bathroom.

'Cynthia? Have you been eaten by any dogs in the last few minutes by any chance?'

No reply.

Fearing the worst, Henry opened the door and stepped inside, expecting to see blood and guts all over the place, with Cynthia's corpse lying on the floor. The place was spotless (well, spotless considering what he had been expecting, it seemed that the cleaners were on vacation), and Cynthia was nowhere to be seen. He cautiously entered the room and approached the row of cubicles. He opened each of them, but they were all empty. Where on earth had she gone? Henry had seen her enter, and he had been outside the door the whole time. And then he saw it. Henry became aware of the giant hole at the back of the room. It was different from the one in his bathroom, this one had a funky red border with some strange marks on it. Had Cynthia gone into the hole? Where would the hole lead? Back to his apartment, or somewhere slightly more exciting than that? He was going to find out, darn tootin'.


	4. Jinkies!

**Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Silent. Hill. 4. The Room. O. K?  
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**Henry's adventures through the big hole in his bathroom wall **

**Part 3 - Jinkies!  
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Henry opened his eyes once more, and found himself in his bedroom, sprawled out across his bed. Well that was a frankly _rubbish_ conclusion. Had he been asleep the whole time? Was this hole thing (chortle) just a strange fantasy he had dreamed up after watching too many cartoons? And then the phone rang again. The cordless one. Not bothering to get up, Henry stretched his arm over to the bedside table, nearly falling off the bed in the process, and held the receiver to his ear.

'Hello, Henry Townshend speaking.'

'Where did you go?'

'Uh oh.'

'Hurry! Save me!'

Cynthia sounded out of breath, panting very heavily. Had she been pleasuring someone while he had been away?

'If you need a token, there's one he--,'

Beep, beep, beep. He put the phone down again. Phooey. It looked like this was actually happening alright. On the bright side, he might still get his 'special favour' if Cynthia wasn't too pissed off about him completely abandoning her. Henry sat up, and headed for the living room. The door was still chained up tightly, but he noticed something that had changed. The table that had been next to his Eileen peeping hole had been moved out of place, covering the hole entirely. Well, we can't have that. He moved the table back into its original place, and discovered a small handgun sitting abandoned under the hole. Henry squealed with delight. So _that's_ where he'd left it. He pocketed the handgun, and then realised with disappointment that it was out of bullets. He never had bothered to buy more after the duck shoot he had attended at the park. Oh well. Maybe he would come across a Walmart on his travels. Henry considered doing a bit of spying on Eileen, but then he remembered his priorities and decided to return to the subway to save Cynthia from peril in a very heroic fashion. He waltzed back to the bathroom and climbed through the hole once more. There was a noise that sounded very much like 'woosh'.

Henry found himself in a heap in the ladies toilet, with a stinging head. It was a similar feeling to the time when he got pissed and drank some Toilet Duck by accident. He walked towards the entrance and then very nearly shat himself because one of the cubicles was wide open and Cynthia was sitting on the toilet. Normally this situation would be extremely embarassing, but the fact that she had turned into some kind of manequin just made it weird.

'Er... Cynthia? Are you okay?'

No reply. What was he supposed to do? His parents had never taught him how to deal with delicate situations such as this. He could always take her with him, but the thought of fighting mutant dogs whilst carrying around a life-sized dummy of a large-breasted Hispanic woman he had only just met seemed impractical at the very least. Henry decided he would ditch her. But before he left, he noticed that she had a small coin clenched in her hand. Henry yoinked it off of her and examined it. It had the words 'LYNCH STREET' printed into it. Was this the 'token' she'd been going on about? Either this was some zany new currency he hadn't heard about or it let him onto the Lynch Street section of the station. How useful. He exited the bathroom (he was pleased to see that Rover and Rex were still lying in a big stamped mess on the floor) and headed into the main section of the station. He used his 'LYNCH STREET' coin at the 'LYNCH STREET' turnsyle and headed down 'LYNCH STREET'.

As Henry reached the next floor down, his head suddenly began to throb terribly. Maybe he had been at the toilet cleaner and forgotten about it. Or perhaps it had something to do with the ghost that was now slowly climbing through the nearby wall in a rather threatening manner.

'Oh, _fuck_.'

The ghost was that of a man. He was slightly transparent, white as a sheet (you might say that he looked like he had seen a ghost but in this case that would be retarded) and making a disturbing gurgling noise that you might associate with the elderly. He didn't look _anything_ like Casper. Curse that deceptive television. But... wait a second. Henry knew his cartoons, and if Scooby Doo was a reliable source when it came to the paranormal then this ghost was just someone dressed up, probably the last person you would ever expect. Testing the theory, Henry stepped towards the figure and pulled hard at his face. Well, tried to. His hand went through it.

'Oh, _shit_.'

Curse that deceptive television. There was only one thing for it. Henry stepped back and whipped out his handgun. He began shooting at the ghost like Lara Croft on speed. Unfortunately, Henry was too stupid to apply the logic of what had just happened to the notion of _shooting the ghost _and the bullets went through the specter and bounced off of the wall.

The ghost had a look of angry bemusement on his face

'Urgyahaaaaaaaaa!' accused the ghost.

Henry pulled the trigger. There was a feeble click.

'Oh, _fuck_.' exasperated Henry.

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**Sorry for the ridiculous gap between this chapter and the last. Basically I did the chapter, and then a series of events which I still don't quite understand occurred and I lost it all, got pissed off, then forgot all about it for ages. >> Anyway, thanks for all the reviews so far. Much appreciated.**  



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